


Mending the Broken (Part III)

by lumifuer



Series: Mending the Broken [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bloodthirsty Dean, F/M, Hunting, Hurt Dean, Lost Love, Wendigo, revange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumifuer/pseuds/lumifuer
Summary: Driven by rage and sorrow, Dean decided to track down the monster that took his lover away.





	Mending the Broken (Part III)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I decided to randomly update it after eleven months? Nice.

Time had ceased to exist. Dean wasn’t able to tell if he was sitting in this chair for five minutes or five centuries. At some point, the tears simply stopped flowing and the world lost its colours.

She took them with her.

Dean was looking straight ahead but failed to distinguish the letters and signs shown on the monitor. He desperately needed to get up and do something, anything but his body refused to obey his will. Y/N’s belongings were overwhelming him; he knew that there was a shirt which he had sawn himself after a particular hunting going wrong, a pair of comfortable, durable boots that she’d usually wear during most cases. He could swear that her smell was still painfully present in the air. His eyes involuntarily drifted to the bed. Was the pillow that she’d laid her head on every night soaked with tears? Did she allow the thoughts to flood her mind, drowning in the heartbreaking sensation of pain and longing that Dean has felt ever since he found out she was gone?

He bit his lip and abruptly looked away, feeling too weak withstand the ideas suggested by his brain. Clenching his fists, he got up from the chair, making it fall to the ground with a loud thud. He closed the laptop, grabbed it in his hand with an intention to throw it into the suitcase of hers when something caught his attention. On the right bedside table, he noticed Y/N’s journal. He couldn’t just leave it in this damn motel room, so he quickly picked it up. Something fell out from between the pages and after swirling in the air for a brief second landed on the floor. Dean put down both things on the mattress and bent down to take what turned out to be a photograph.

The lump in his throat got noticeably bigger, making him lose his breath and his vision became blurry again. Despite this, he recognized his face immediately, although he hadn’t seen a smile this wide in the mirror for awhile. And maybe it would never return. The picture was folded in half as if Y/N couldn’t bear looking at the person in the other part. With trembling hand, Dean bent it back in its place. He knew what to expect, but the image still made him exhale sharply, turning its sound into a sob. It’s been so long since he had last seen her face. He traced the outline of her jaw as if he was trying to comfort her.

Then he suddenly felt a familiar touch on his shoulder.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice was filled with sorrow but firm at the same time, “we should get out of here.”

The meaning behind angel’s words was hidden. He was worried that staying in this grave any longer could have had a bad impact on his friend’s mental condition. Dean understood and appreciated his concern. He put the picture back between the pages, making sure it wasn’t folded in half anymore and packed everything into Y/N’s duffel bag. With a barely noticeable nod of his head, he gave Castiel a sign that he was ready to go home.

He felt that he was leaving a piece of his heart in those four walls.

* * *

“Dean, don’t be stupid,” Sam was persistently following his older brother, trying to stop him from behaving self-destructive, “we should go back there together. Going alone is a suicide!”

Dean stopped in his tracks, almost causing Sam to bump into him.

“And what’s wrong with that, Sammy?” he exclaimed. The words fell out of his mind with no supervision.

Sam exhaled and looked on the floor. He was expecting such an outburst, but it didn’t mean that actually hearing this confession was any easier.

“You think that Y/N would want you to put your life at risk like that?” he tried to get to the logical side of his brother’s brain but it seemed to be controlled by his emotions as well.

Dean raised his eyes to the ceiling and let out the air with a heavy sigh, making him appear a thousand years old. He tried to say something but had troubles finding the right way to put words together so he simply gave up and waved his hand at his little brother.

His steps echoed in the dark hallway as Sam was helplessly watching him leave into the night with a bag full of weapons.

* * *

The Impala stopped at the edge of the forest located not so far from the hotel. Dean left the headlights on and got out of the car, taking the map he’d taken from Y/N room and placing it on the hood of the car. He traced the line drawn with a red marker, trying not to think that the tip of the finger of his love must have been touching the same place not so long ago. He was behaving like a numb machine, concentrated on one goal. What was to come after he was done with this case was simply a distraction.

Finally, he found the cave that the Wendigo was supposedly hiding in. He quickly folded the map and put it in his pocket, taking the bag from the passenger seat. He headed towards the path that would eventually lead him to the son of a bitch responsible for taking one of the most important people in his life from him.

The darkness enveloping the forest and the fact that he was on his own didn’t work in his favour. His thoughts seemed to constantly break the leash, racing to the memories, feeling of guilt and hopelessness. He shook his head, afraid that all this pain would finally cause it to explode. He tried to focus on moving silently and observing the environment. In the end, Wendigo might have been out looking for another victim.

After thirty minutes of walking and fighting with himself, a strange sound reached Dean’s ears. Distant and yet so close at the same time. Like an eerie whisper right by his ear. Dean turned his head in search for its source but something felt incredibly wrong. He knew that voice.

His heart sank when the sudden realization came.

He dropped the flashlight that hit the rock and broke into a few pieces. He loosened the bag slider hysterically and started to blindly look for the flareguns while searching the darkness for the enemy at the same time. Each tree could serve as a possible shelter for the monster, especially with the adrenaline rush acting against Dean this time.

Finally, he felt the right object under his fingertips and firmly grabbed the gun, pulling it out. But the voice disappeared, the only thing to disturb the silence was his own accelerated breathing.

He turned towards the cave very slowly and when his eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he managed to see the outline of it, about twenty metres ahead of him. Dean scanned his surrounding for the last time and became to move towards the cave, carefully taking every step.

He was driven by utter hatred. Especially with the voice of reason that begun to tell its sickening story, putting all the elements together and forming one horrifying truth.

Dean was so focused on pushing those theories away that he didn’t hear the rustle behind his back at first. When he turned around, it was already too late. Wendigo jumped at him, pinning him to the ground. The impact of the hit made Dean dizzy but he didn’t let go of the flaregun. Though he wasn’t given a chance to you use, his arm movement was blocked by the large claws. Winchester struggled to free himself but quickly grew weak. Just when he was about to give up completely, he remembered the reason behind this hunt. What has been taken away from him by this creature.

In the next second, all of his remaining energy was sent to his arm and he was able to break free. He aimed at the Wendigo, ignoring the unpleasant consequences of such a close shot but the monster abruptly backed away with a soul-piercing howl, not knowing that it had just worsened its situation. Dean pulled the trigger and a red fireball shot from the barrel hitting the monster in the chest. It burst into flames, hissing and shaking, desperately trying to put down the fire but failing. Dean relished the view of a bony flesh falling to the ground.

He continued to watch his enemy for another few minutes, making sure that he wouldn’t return to the world of the living. Instead, it began to turn into a pile of dust.

He killed it.

Then the weapon fell out of his hand and the dam that Dean had temporarily built in his mind broke down. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the tears to roll down his cheeks.

Her laptop was still turned on. The boots that she would always wear on cases were left on the floor in the hotel room and all of her guns were tucked under a pile of clothes in the bag. She didn’t die during the hunting. This son of a bitch lured her out. Using Dean’s voice.

She was ready to go back, allow him to forgive her. So much that she had left the room in the middle of the night in hopes that he’d found her. This conclusion broke Dean’s heart but also filled his mind with peace.

He believed that time would come when they’d meet again. And they will be given a second chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥♥♥


End file.
